Enter Sandman
by happyday girl
Summary: Preseries. The Winchesters are on the tail of a mysterious force that is killing children through their dreams-while investigating, John comes to realise that one of his boys could be the creature's next victim. Hurt!Boys, Angry!Caring!John-Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello Everyone!**

**I have to apologise for the abysmal setting out of this chapter- I recently purchased an App where I could write down chapters, but when it came to putting it on Word, it didn't go according to plan at all! So I won't be using that in future!**

**Anyway, back to this story- This idea has been floating around in my head for a while, and I just had to get it down!**

**I hope you enjoy this first chapter!**

The harsh rain tumbled and spat against the car windows as the Impala sped down the highway, the torrent of water almost invisible against the dark night, the stars lost in fog, looking like smudges on a soggy oil painting. The torrent of water ran up and over the windscreen, making the window wipers work feverishly hard to clear the glass.

John Winchester peered over the steering wheel, trying to see if he was still even driving In a straight line- Dean, who was riding shotgun, cast his father a small uncertain look before sighing and trying to settle back into his seat.

He knew that his father wanted to reach the next gig by morning; it was a bad one and lots of kids were dying.  
>Almost as if John knew that his oldest son was thinking about the case he cleared his throat and gave his twenty year old son a look.<br>'Give me the run down again' he muttered, before looking in the interior mirror and glancing over at his youngest son in the back seat- Sam was asleep against the window, his unruly brown hair falling into his eyes.  
>He gave a small smile before turning back to his oldest, raising his eyebrows at him as his eyes returned to the road. 'Well?' he barked at him, waiting for his son to reply.<br>Dean cleared his throat and reached into the glove compartment of the car and pulled out the stack of papers and reports that documented their next case.  
>'There's something down In New Orleans that's causing kids to die' he said, flicking through the papers to get to some more information.<br>'There's no link between the kids-age, race, type of household- even kids as old as nineteen are dying-'  
>'Then how do we know that the same thing is killing all the kids? It could be anything, serial killer, demons...'<br>Dean allowed himself a small grin; he enjoyed it when his father tested him- it made him think harder and get the right answer.  
>'Those could be a possibility if it wasn't for the fact that the kids all had the same experiences before they died- horrific dreams and hallucinations- and when the coroner checked them over, there was never any specific course of death, it was just like the kids had been-'<br>'- scared to death' John finished his son's sentence, nodding darkly. The oldest Winchester had seen lots of things as a hunter, but he had never come across anything that could scare a kid to death without plausible reason- normally it was spirits or ghosts, some type of creature that epitomised fear. But in this case, there was nothing, absolutely nothing.  
>The two men stared straight ahead at the road in front; the rain had lessened slightly, but mist had now set in, surrounding the car like<br>choking smoke.  
>There was silence for a few minutes, before a series of small noises caused them both to look around; small moans and a sharp intake of breath made Dean spin around in his chair- Sam was now curled on the back seat, his face slightly scrunched as he shook his head.<br>'Sam?'  
>'No...No don't...'<br>'Sam!' Dean muttered, giving his dad a panicked look before unbuckling his seat belt and climbing into the backseat.  
>He scooched closer to Sam and gave him a gentle shake- the youngest Winchester's eyes flew open and he jumped in surprise, hitting the top of his head on the window.<br>'Ouch! What's happening?' he asked, rubbing his head and frowning at his brother.  
>'We thought you were having a nightmare' dean replied; Sam seemed fine now.<br>'Oh, I don't remember, I don't think I did' Sam muttered, trying to remember what he was dreaming about.  
>'Never mind, we're nearly there now, we can all sleep at the motel room' John barked from the front. He looked at his youngest through the interior mirror once more, a slightly concerned look on his face, before he looked at Dean 'You gettin' back in front or not? He asked before looking back in front at the road.<br>Dean looked at his little brother and gave him one last look-over.

'You sure you're ok?' he asked. Sam nodded and smiled at him, before jokingly pushing him back to the front seats.

Dean chuckled and climbed back into the front seats, settling back down again and stared out of the window.  
>'What should we do when we get there? He asked after a while, turning back towards their father.<br>'You and Sam can go to the last kid's house, see what you can dig up about what he experienced before he died, and I'll go to the coroner's office and see if I can get any more on what caused those kids to die' John muttered, before giving his son a small smile; he could see that Dean was worried, he himself was worried; it was always the same when kids were involved  
>'We'll get whatever fugly's doing this Dean' he said quietly, before turning into the road for their motel room.<br>'Yeah I know dad' Dean muttered, glancing at Sam in the interior mirror, just like John had done before- Sam was watching him and his brother poked his tongue out at him before making a face. Dean chuckled and looked forward as John parked the Impala in the car park.  
>'I'll go check in' John muttered- they had a system where John would check in, then him and the boys would bring all the stuff they need in together, it was an order and John liked it.<br>'We'll start getting everything ready' Dean replied, and he and Sam got out of the car, the latter yawning and stretching like a cat.  
>'That was a long drive' he muttered, reaching into the boot and shouldering a duffel bag and picking out two more.<br>'Tell me about it Sammy' Dean agreed, moving to stand beside Sam and picking out a long black leather case that held their guns.  
>'You sure you're ok? You've been getting a few of those nightmares' Dean asked, worry lacing his voice.<br>'I honestly don't remember them though' Sam replied, giving Dean a somewhat apologetic smile.  
>'Ok' Dean shrugged, before pushing Sam in the direction of the motel entrance where John was waiting.<br>As they made their way to their room John looked at each of his sons in turn; they both looked haggard and tired- a good nights sleep is what they both needed, he would give them the next day to recuperate.  
>'Boys you two can spend the day dossing around here tomorrow; do some research, get some sleep' he offered.<br>Dean looked mortally offended by the offer- he shook his head astutely at their father. 'No way Dad! We gotta find out what's happening to those kids!' he said, looking to Sam for back up.  
>Sam shrugged, before nodding at Dean 'I am tired, but like Dean said- we have to stop whatever is doing this before more people get hurt.'<br>John looked at both his boys, feeling pride well up in his chest. 'Well ok then' he smiled, before unlocking the door and letting his boys through.  
>'We start work tomorrow- we'll leave a nine' he stated, looking at his<br>son's for a look of confirmation.  
>'Sounds good to me.' Dean nodded, whilst Sam nodded at him, before heading to the bed for some much wanted sleep.<br>'Night dad' Dean muttered, heading for the sack himself.  
>'Night boys! John replied, settling himself down in a chair and opening up the wallet of case information.<br>They had to find out what was killing these children, because from the looks of the rates that the killings were going on- one every week-

It seemed the creature was just getting started.

**I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, and the next one will have more excitement in it, I promise!**

**And I havent forgotten my De-aged fic, I will update that tommorow, and well as getting the second chapter of this up ^^**

**I really hope you liked this chapter, and please review your thoughts!**

**x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello!**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and read this so far-it means a lot! ^^**

**This chapter is longer than expected, but I still hope you enjoy!**

**This is more of a 'Platform chapter' –it hasn't got much action in it, but it certainly sets the action up for the other chapters!**

**Enjoy...**

Sam woke up at 6.30 the next morning, and as he rolled over to the weak light coming from the window, he was not at all surprised to see his father hunched over the small table by the window, piles of paper stacked around him, Sam's open laptop still whirring on the desk in front of him.

John looked haggard and worn, stubble staring to show on his jaw-Sam was amazed that stubble grew so fast. His eyes were barely open, his mouth slightly agape as he scanned another page of evidence.

'Did you get any sleep at all last night?' he asked from his bed.

John jumped and looked startled as his eyes fell on his youngest son. Upon seeing Sam, he rubbed a hand down his face and offered him a smile that he saw way too often on Dean-it was the 'I don't feel so good but I'm ok' sort of look, and it always made Sam edgy.

'I got a few minutes, but I'm ok, I'll sleep when I get back from the coroner's office this morning' he replied.

'Yeah, whatever...' Sam chuckled, getting out of bed and crossing to the bathroom. He quickly washed and got dressed, and as he walked back in he saw his dad clean up the table and sort out his shirt so it looked half decent.

'Wake your brother up, we'll go grab breakfast in town before we start' he muttered, walking over to the coat-hook and grabbing his jacket.

Sam walked over to Dean, who was still fast asleep in his bed; his hair was all over the place, and he was drooling slightly into the pillow.

'Hey-get up' he said loudly, pushing Dean's shoulder as he did so. Dean didn't stir, so Sam took on a more 'Rough' approach-

'Hey lazy bastard-GET UP!' he yelled, ripping Dean's bed clothes up and putting his full weight on the mattress with both hands before effectively jumping up and down on his brother's bed.

This had an affect on Dean. The oldest Winchester woke up with a strangled yell and his hands flailed up in the air as he tried to steady himself on his rapidly moving bed.

'What the hell?' he yelled, before he finally saw Sam. 'You little-'he growled, jumping from his bed and tackling his brother around the waist.

'No, wait Dean don't! Dad told me to wake you up!' Sam shouted, laughing as his brother tried to push him to the ground.

'You-may...be...bigger than me...' Dean growled out as he pushed. '...But I can still...whoop your ass!' he finished, giving Sam an almighty push and sending him to the floor.

Sam fell down with a gasp and pouted at his brother.

'Ha!' Dean smiled, triumphant in his epic feat.

'Yeah, whoohoo for you-now help me up!' Sam instructed, holding a hand out.

'Alright...bitch'

'Thank you...jerk' both boy's sniggered at each other for a second-

'...Finished?' John asked from the door, one hand on the doorknob, the other on his hip as he looked at his son's with raised eyebrows.

Dean immediately dropped his eyes, and crossed over to the bed and grabbed some fresh clothes from his duffel. 'I won't be a sec' he muttered, before moving off to the bathroom.

'Come on then Sammy, we'll wait for him in the car.' John muttered, opening the door and waving Sam through.

Sam moved to the locked bathroom door and banged on it with his fist. 'I call shotgun this time!' he yelled, before laughing and following his father out of the door.

Once the door was shut, Dean came out and frowned at the door.

'Oh...no fair!' he muttered, before chuckling and finishing getting ready.

* * *

><p>Once their father had departed to the coroner's office, Sam and Dean made their way to the house of the latest kid to have been killed.<p>

The street looked totally normal; nicely trimmed lawns, the houses even matched symmetrically to each other, it was just as normal as any other neighbourhood. What had really happened here?'

'What are we looking for here?' Sam asked his brother, looking at him sideways as they walked down the street.

Dean blew air out of his cheeks and shrugged. 'I don't really know-anything that could give us an idea of what we're dealing with I guess...tracks, marks, blood. Something like that' He replied.

Truth was, the police had gone over everything with a fine toothcomb; there wasn't any hard evidence that anything had happened to the kid, or the house _at all_ before he died.

'Well, what do we know about the victim?' Sam muttered, looking forwards-the house was just coming up.

'That I do know...Tomas Rogers of no 19- 13 years old, good school, good friends, good parents. Nothing untoward in the family history at all. One night he goes to bed feeling a bit ill, in the middle of the night, his parents rush to his room after hearing screaming and yelling, but before they can get to him, the screams stop-the kids dead, but nothing to say what killed him. Nada.' Dean said, once again shrugging.

'This is strange Dean...' Sam muttered. He felt a little uneasy about this whole case.

'Yeah tell me about it' Dean snorted, rounding up to the families' porch and rapping on the door.

A few seconds later and a woman answered. Dean could tell that she was a pretty lady-her blonde hair full of life and colour; her face, on the other hands, bore the all the hallmarks of a grieving parent. Her face was pale and taut, her eyes puffy and red from the crying.

'Yes...can I help you?' she whispered, her voice edgy and painful sounding.

'We're very sorry to bother you ma'am, me and my brother here work for the window fitters down the road-we've been contacted by the police about us coming here and checking out the window's in your son's room? They said it might help them to figure out what happened to you son' Dean trailed off the story, hoping she'll buy it.

The woman shook her head and frowned. 'I'm-I'm sorry but I haven't heard about this before-'

'-It must of slipped their mind-we'll only be quick, we just want to get an idea of what happened to your son, like if there was any forced entry. Please ma'am, I promise we won't be long?' Dean begged, smiling in a reassuring way to the woman.

She looked flustered for a moment, before finally nodding and allowing them through.

'It's the first door on the top of the stairs-I'll give you ten minutes' she muttered, her fingers clasping on a tiny gold crucifix on a chain around her neck.

'Thank you' Sam smiled, before following his brother up the stairs, and shutting the door behind him.

'That was awful' he muttered, shaking his head.

'I know Sammy, but we gotta do it, otherwise we wouldn't find anything out' Dean replied, heading towards the window and looking at them.

'I know, but it still feels wrong every time we lie to these people.' Sam pressed the matter, crossing to the boy's bed and inspecting the area around it.

'Nope, nothing here-windows clean and stable-hell they're even locked' Dean muttered, unlocking a window and opening it.

'Yeah same here...' Sam replied. The kid's bedside table had an open Marvel comic strewn over it, and pictures of video game characters and music posters adorned the walls.

'It looks so...normal' he mused, turning to his brother with a questioning look on his face.

'Yeah. That's what scares me.' Dean muttered.

There was nothing wrong with the room. No sign of break in. No sign of any demon or ghostly activity in the room. Nothing.

How did the kid die?

Almost like Sam was reading his thoughts, his brother put a hand on his shoulder. 'Hopefully dad'll find more from the coroners office-there has to be something linking these deaths'

'I know, but that brings me to my next question-can someone get scared to death? Without reason?' Dean asked.

It was Sam's turn to blow air out his cheeks and shrug. 'There has to be a reason to be scared-but no, I've never heard of a documented case of someone being scared to death without something making them scared-we've got police statements from all the family saying that nothing happened to the kids before they died'

'-But what about the nightmares? Could a nightmare scare someone to death?' Dean asked, hope suddenly glistening in his brain-were the nightmares the answer?

'Again, I've never heard of a nightmare actually causing death-these were all healthy, bright kids-how could a nightmare kill them?' Sam replied, both their feelings dissolving into dark feelings of fear.

'I have no idea Sammy-we have to figure that one out' Dean was about to say more when there was a knock on the door, and Tomas's mother came through it.

'Your ten minutes are up' she whispered, and moved aside to let them pass.

'Thank you for your time ma'am-we won't bother you again' Sam said, before laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. 'We're very sorry for your loss' he whispered, before crossing to the landing and walking down the stairs.

Dean nodded his agreement and followed him down, and soon they were back in the sunshine-it was still heard to shake off the feeling of immense sorry that saturated the house.

Sam checked his watch' Dad'll be back by now-we should get back to the motel' he muttered, and he and Dean began the long walk back, hoping that their father had some clues to this puzzle, and would hopefully give them the answers to the dark questions that were floating around in their minds.

**Next chapter-what did John find out?**

**Don't worry, the action and Hurt! Boys are coming in the next chapters! **

**Thank you for reading, and please review!**

**xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello!**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, put this story on alert and favourited it as well-it means a lot that you guys like this!**

**This chapter is probably the longest one I have ever written for any of my stories, so I really hope you enjoy it, and if it was too long just say, and I'll try and not write so much in one chapter next time!**

**Enjoy...**

The cold autumn wind blew the hems of Dean's jacket upwards, the cold air hitting his stomach and making him shiver. He pulled his jacket tighter and turned to his brother, grinning when he saw the wind was blowing his hair up all over the place.

'Hey dude-your hairs a mess!' he chuckled, reaching up and jokingly started to pat it back down, making sure he put weight on his hand to send Sam forwards a little with the momentum.

'Quit it man!' Sam growled, pulling his hands off and patting his hair himself. He looked around at the town they were in now-the cold grey buildings housing libraries and courts looked like something from another age-hell, even some of the older streets were still cobbled.

'We sure pick the places...' he muttered, digging his hands deeper into his pockets to try and fight off the chill.

'Aw it aint so bad-quit your moaning Sammy!' Dean smiled, giving his brother a look. 'You're never happy are you?'

'Not when kids are dying I'm not' came his reply.

Dean felt his stomach drop a little and he nodded his head as he looked forwards, feeling slightly ashamed.

'Touché' he muttered in a low voice.

They had gone into town to collect some more papers about the case-news reports, that sort of thing. Dean hoped it would shed some more light on what they were dealing with; he was going to see if there was anything that they had missed previously.

'Come on, let's go back to the motel-dad might've found something while we've been gone!' he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Sam sighed and nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. 'I sure hope so' he replied.

The sun was just going down as they arrived back at the motel room; they had parked the Impala on the far side of the car park and walked in, the wind whistling through the trees, creating an eerie sound that made the hairs on the back of Sam's neck stand up.

Dean unlocked the door with the key John had given him and let them both inside-John was sat at the small table, once again poring over the papers he had collected.

Sam took off his jacket and dumped it on his bed, sitting on it as he regarded his father with hopeful eyes.

'Found anything?' he asked. The statement was simple, but everyone hoped the answer would be good and actually useful.

John looked at both of his sons in turn before tapping a finger on a brown wallet of paper on the desk.

'I went to the coroners' office and watched as they did the autopsy on the latest kid to die.' He started, before rubbing a hand down his face.

Dean gave his brother a sideways look, Sam shrugged at him and stayed silent; he knew that their dad had found something, and this was the first time he had known him to hesitate when explaining something to them.

'Its just-It's so strange, this case...I haven't seen anything like it before' John started to talk again, shrugging his shoulders and looking down at his shoes.

'Dad, what did you find?' Dean pressed. He wanted to know, and he knew that John wasn't telling them something.

'I went to the coroner's office, and when they were doing the autopsy we both noticed something strange, something that they didn't really connect with the others...'

'...And what was that?'Sam asked, sitting forwards on the bed.

'Well, each of the kids died with their eyes open, with scared expressions on their faces, which backs up the theory that they were scared by something, scared to death, right?' John asked his boys.

'Yeah' Dean muttered. He knew that this was their Dad's way of sorting things out in his own mind-asking them questions, waiting for them to confirm or disagree with what he said.

'Well, we found something else that they all had in common on their bodies-each of the kids had clods of human skin and blood under their fingernails.' John said darkly, his brown eyes losing their life for a split second as he looked at his sons for their reaction.

Sam had sat back and crossed his legs, giving his father and brother a look of mixed horror and confusion, before he crossed his arms as well and looked down at the floor-John knew that that was Sam's way of processing news. On his own and private.

Dean, however, did exactly what John expected him to. He threw his hands up and shook his head, before crossing to his bed and looking at his dad in an expectant way.

'The coroner sent the blood and skin for DNA testing, but we're pretty sure it's going to be the kids own body-now what we need to find out is why. Why did they have their own skin and blood under their nails?'

'Maybe they had an epic itch?' John knew that Dean trying to inject humour into the idea pool was a way for him to understand something he couldn't.

'Come on now, real ideas please?' he said softly, turning to Sam for an idea.

Sam looked thoughtful for a second. 'What about the nightmares? Could they have something to do with it? Think about it-maybe they had a nightmare that they just couldn't get rid of-it could've driven them crazy, maybe that was the only way to get it to stop.

'I've never heard of nightmares-supernatural or not- that could cause someone to die. The kids didn't kill themselves. There's no way that they could of-no noose, excess blood, pills in the system...they were scared to death.' John said, shrugging at his youngest.

'But how?' Dean asked, a stubborn tone now evident in his voice. He stood up and crossed to the door, and leaned against the frame, looking back at his brother and father as he talked.

'Sam said that there was no way that a freaking nightmare can kill someone. It could contribute, but couldn't actually kill them.'

'Well now it appears that they can' Sam muttered, looking up for the first time.

'That's not helping Sam! We need to know why!' Dean snapped, his voice rising as well as his anger levels.

'Hey don't shout at me!' Sam growled back, sending his brother a dark look. It was clear that none of them knew what they were up against.

'Come on you two, I don't need you two at each other's throats over this!' John said strongly, giving his boys a warning look. His expression then softened as he stood up and looked at them both.

'Now I'm going to say something I know neither of you will like' he started, sighing and taking a deep breath as he watched Dean walk forwards and sit on Sam's bed with him.

'What do you mean?' Sam asked.

'Well, we don't know what we're up against because we haven't had any first hand experience of this fugly-we don't know what the victim experiences before and during their trauma, we don't really know what the scene looks like afterwards. Treat this like an unsolved serial killer case...when the trails gone cold but we know the killer has to strike again, we have to have-'

'- another victim' Sam finished off this sentence for him.

John confirmed his answer with a simple nod, before he ran his hand down his face a second time.

Dean blew air out of his cheeks and shook his head. 'We can't-there has to be another way!' he said, standing up and looking pleadingly at his father. 'We can't let another kid die before we do something!'

'I know this is hard Dean, but we know jack squat about what we're up against-if I had any other idea I would use it, but this is the road we have to take.

'Then it's the wrong one!' Dean growled. He wouldn't let another kid die before they could get a chance to gank the fugly.

Sam stood up and laid a hand on Dean's shoulder. 'Maybe dad's right-but we should keep an eye on the police feed, or look at hospital reports for nightmares, extreme fear-we might catch this before it actually happens' he said softly. When it came to hunts he liked to take the optimistic approach-he had to have something that would be good to fall back on.

'It's a long shot-but Sam might be right Dean...we'll keep an eye on it' John smiled at his youngest and gave him an affectionate bat on the back of his head.

Dean sighed and nodded. 'Ok. Sorry for getting all in your face then dad' Dean looked sheepish as he apologised.

John grinned and shook his head. 'Don't be-I'm heading out to get dinner, you want burgers or Chinese?' he asked them both.

'Burgers' they both answered and John smiled as he went to get his coat.

He never told his sons how proud he was of them; there never seemed to be the right time, or right place.

'You do know I'm proud of you guys, right?' he asked as he was heading out of the door.

'Yeah we know' Sam smiled, Dean nodding and giving him a reassuring grin.

'Oh. Good!' John muttered, before he closed the door with a snap.

Dean chuckled and shook his head, heading for his bed.

'What?'

'Trust a case like this to get Dad all sentimental' he grinned as he flopped onto the bed and turned on the television.

Sam looked back at the door for a few seconds. He shrugged at it and crossed to the bathroom.

'I'm gonna have a shower!' he yelled as he closed the door.

'Have fun!' came is reply.

'Oh I will! Thank you!' he laughed back.

Dean rolled his eyes as he flicked through the channels. 'Idiot' he grinned.

* * *

><p>Three hours later, and they were both starting to get worried.<p>

'What if he's fallen over and hurt?' Sam mused, sitting at the table and looking out of the window. Their dad had been gone for a while, and night had well and truly come-the clouds covering the moon, leaving an orange tinge on the outside of the cloud.

'What about the burgers? They're getting cold out there!' Dean said, before grinning at Sam. 'Relax Sammy, it was a joke' he sighed as he rolled off his bed and crossed to Sam, putting his hands on the back of Sam's chair.

Right before he was about to reassure Sam that it was ok, his phone rang.

'Hello? Dad? Where are you?' he muttered, spinning around from Sam and walking back into the middle of the room.

'Oh ok...yeah, we weren't that hungry anyway...no...ok, we'll see you later-bye dad' he finished as he switched off his phone and tossed it on his bed.

'Well?' asked Sam.

'Dad said sorry about dinner, but he met a friend in town and they're going to get a few drinks-he said we shouldn't wait up for him.

'Oh ok- I wish he would phone earlier' Sam muttered.

'Yeah well, that's dad, isn't it?' Dean chuckled; he sighed and clapped his hands before looking back at Sam.

'I've got some money, I can go get something from the vending machines if you want?' he asked.

Sam smiled and shook his head. 'No thanks, I'm not that hungry anymore.'

The case was seriously getting to him, and it had eaten up his appetite as well as his curiosity.

'Yeah...I'm not hungry neither' Dean agreed, and he shrugged and turned to his bed.

'We might as well hit the sack then' he muttered, and he crossed to the bathroom to change for bed.

* * *

><p>Sam couldn't sleep. All he could see were kids scratching at their heads, their skin peeling off and blood rippling down their faces...<p>

He turned over and scrunched his eyes shut and tried to force himself to think of something else.

Guns...kids...the day's new...blood...Dean and dad's awful singing on the way down...skin...

He sighed and flipped over to his back, this time looking up at the ceiling. He knew he wasn't going to sleep tonight. He quietly got out of bed and crossed to his laptop, but whilst he was firing it up he heard some strange noises coming from Dean's bed.

As he quietly drew near to his brother he could hear him muttering something in his sleep. He started to toss a little, flicking his head left and right, his eyes moving under the lids.

'Dean...' Sam made to gently wake him up, but before he even got close his big brother woke with a start. His eyes were wide, but they relaxed when he saw Sam.

'Sammy? What's the matter, are you ok?' he asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

'What? Yeah I'm ok, are you ok?' Sam frowned, standing up fully and giving his brother the look over.

'Yeah, why?' Sam could definitely tell something was up, but Dean wasn't giving anything up.

'Never mind...night then' he muttered, frowning again as Dean rolled his eyes at him and winked before turning over in bed.

'Night Sammy-and try to get some sleep, would ya? I don't want your tired ass out there with me tomorrow!' he muttered.

'Yeah ok...' Sam grinned, before abandoning his laptop and getting back into bed.

Dean was right, he had to get some sleep, and he needed to be ready for whatever came next.

Because he knew that none of them had any idea of what would happen when the sun dawned the next day.

**I really hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**I'm trying to keep you guessing on this chapter, and I hope you like the suspense!**

**Thank you for reading and please review!**

**x**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello!**

**I am so sorry for the late updating; real life is going into overdrive **

**I really hope you enjoy this chapter, I really enjoyed writing it, and it's another long one, so I hope you enjoy that!**

**Onwards...**

Sam woke up early the next morning, and as he turned in his bed he caught sight of his brother in the bed opposite-Dean was still out like a light, his mouth slightly open as he snored lightly.

Sam shook his head and smiled before swinging himself out of bed and loping to the bathroom, grabbing his clothes en route. Once he had finished washing and brushing his teeth he opened the bathroom door to come face to face with his father.

Sam jumped and stifled a yell; his eyes were on the floor as he walked out, and the sight of his father in the orange-tinged gloom of the motel room startled him a little.

'Jumpy much?' John chuckled, patting his youngest son on the shoulder as he opened the bathroom door fully for him. Sam grinned and shook his head. 'Nah, I'm ok-you should talk to Dean though...I think he had a nightmare last night' he muttered, ducking under his father's arm and going to sit on the chair by the window.

John frowned and cast his gaze on his eldest. 'Really? Did he seem ok?'

It was Sam's turn to frown-their dad didn't normally get worried over nightmares. 'Yeah, I'm sure he's fine, it's just unusual for him, that's all.' He muttered, smiling at his father.

John's taut face relaxed a little, and seemed to nod to himself. 'Oh ok-you let me know if either of you get any more nightmares, ok?' he asked, pointing a thumb at Sam.

'Umm...ok' Sam agreed, still dubious about the relevance of their nightmares. 'It's just the effects of this case dad, nothing to worry about!'

'I guess your right; I just worry about you two!' John grinned somewhat bashfully, before pulling open the bathroom door and closing it behind him with a snap.

Sam grinned and shook his head for the second time, before leafing through yesterday's newspapers.

About half an hour later Dean awoke, the older brother stretching like a cat, scratching his neck as he peered around the room.

'Sammy? What're you doing up?' he muttered thickly, patting down his hair that had been disturbed by sleep.

'Well, that usually happens when I've been asleep-what, it doesn't happen to you?' Sam feigned shock, before chuckling as Dean gave him the finger.

'Bite me' he grinned, before he rolled out of bed and grabbed his clothes. 'Dad's hogging the bathroom again' Sam muttered from his place at the table.

'Thanks Einstein- I could have guessed that from the steam coming through the bottom of the door!' Dean joked, before he sat on his bed to wait for their dad to get out of the bathroom.

Soon enough he did, and Dean was soon washed and dressed, and as he came out of the bathroom John clapped his hands- a sign he wanted his sons to listen.

'Ok-jobs for today. You and Sam can go around town to the neighbouring houses of the latest kid to die-maybe their children are experiencing something similar, and I know you don't like the idea Dean, but we might have to resort to live bait-'

He completely ignored Dean's angered face and turned to Sam, who shot a look at his brother's disgruntled expression before turning his attention to his father.

'I am going to the police station to gather up police files-from the way the coroner was speaking yesterday, this town isn't the only one to see deaths like this, it might help to see how far spread this is happening'

Sam nodded and stood up, before walking to the door and grabbing his coat.

'Shall we go?' he asked Dean, and he sighed as Dean heavily picked himself up from the bed and, with a face like thunder, walked over to the door like a petulant child before grabbing his coat from the rack and disappearing out the door.

Sam raised an eyebrow to john. 'He's just pissed I mentioned live bait again' John shrugged. 'He'll have to get over it' he sighed, before he walked out of the door as well.

* * *

><p>'Live bait isn't the answer; I don't know why he keeps mentioning it...' Dean grumbled as he and Sam made their way across the street again. Sam shrugged and kept quiet- it wouldn't do to argue with his brother when he was on his moral high horse.<p>

'Dad's just voicing what he thinks might have to happen' he said in a soft voice, before rolling his eyes as Dean began counting off on his fingers reasons why live bait wasn't a good idea.

'...and number five-the kid would get hurt! I would never forgive myself if that happened!'

Sam sighed and blocked out his brother's deep tones. They were looking for a house that could hold the next clue in their investigation.

The neighbourhood looked normal, just as normal as it did yesterday...only this time there was a gaggle of women by the house of the last child to have died.

Sam frowned and patted Dean's shoulder and pointed. Dean looked up and nodded-what was going on here?

They walked over and started to eavesdrop on their conversation...

'...He won't come out of his room...'

'I just don't understand it, did he say why?'

'He said 'they will get him' if he does- I don't know what to do, I can't talk to him, he's getting nightmares every night, I can't seem to help'

'Oh my god-that happened exactly before my Tomas died!' Mrs Rogers suddenly seemed to have colour back in her pale cheeks, her eyes shining at the realisation.

Sam and Dean exchanged excited glances, before slowly walking away from the group of women.

'So another kid is going through what happened to Tomas?' hissed Sam, looking at his brother for an answer.

'Sure sounds like it-we need to talk to this kid, find out what's happened to him.' Dean nodded, looking around as if to spot the child's house from the row of identical houses.

Sam patted his shoulder and nodded-the Woman who had been describing her son's experiences was now walking on the pavement towards them.

Dean's eyes widened and he cleared his throat as he walked towards her, his hand already moving in the inside pocket of his jacket.

'Hello ma'am, I'm Detective Lawrence from the County Sheriffs, this is my partner Detective Steele-'he brandished his 'credentials' for a few seconds, Sam doing the same, before he smiled again at the confused looking woman.

'What do you want?' she asked.

'We're investigating the death of Tomas Rogers over the street there? And we couldn't help overhearing that your son has been having strange experiences, and we wondered whether we could talk to him?'

'What does Tomas's death have to do with my Frank?' the woman instantly paled, her fingers lacing within each other.

'Nothing, we just want to connect all the dots, y'know? It might help us with our investigation-just half an hour, please?' Dean put on his pleading eyes, but the woman still looked uncertain.

Sam stepped forwards and laid an arm on her shoulder, his eyes soft and his expression open.

'I understand what you're going through, it must be hard to not know what is happening to your son, but we're here to help you understand what is happening to him. Will you let us help him?' he asked, smiling at her.

The woman smiled back and brushed tears out of her eyes and readjusted her coat. 'I just don't get it-he never normally get's nightmares'

'Will you let us help him?' Sam repeated, stepping back to rejoin his brother.

'Ok, half an hour, I want to know what is happening to him' she pleaded.

'We'll do our best' Dean nodded, and moved his hand to motion for the woman to walk to her house.

* * *

><p>The house was quiet and clean, a chocolate Labrador asleep in a basket by a log fire. A freshly baked pie was cooling on the windowsill, and Sam had to allow himself a small pang of longing as he climbed the carpeted stairs after his brother, but pulled himself out of his own feelings as they approached Frank's door.<p>

'He's so scared of something, but he wont say what' his mother whispered, before she knocked twice on the door before pulling it open.

Sam was the first to walk through, and he was instantly struck by the sheer feeling of fear and confusion that permeated the room like a toxic cloud, saturating everything in the room. The curtains were drawn, casting an eerie blue-black glow around the room, only distributed by yellow glow in the dark stars that were dotted on the walls and ceiling.

'Hey Frank...my Name's Sam, I work with the local police, is it ok if I ask you some questions?' Sam asked, tentatively sitting on the edge of the young boy's bed.

He guessed that Frank couldn't have been more than 10, his childish face pale and scrunched; his eyes wide and red rimmed from tiredness.

He didn't even look at Sam as he nodded. Sam looked back at Dean, his brother shrugging before turning to frank's mother. 'Maybe you should wait outside, kids might not talk for fear of upsetting their parents-we'll only be a few minutes' he suggested.

Frank's mother started to object, but she seemed to revaluate what was said in her head, before she eventually nodded and walked out the room, slowly shutting the door behind her.

Sam started to speak again, keeping his voice light but serious.

'Have you heard what happened to the other kid down the road?' he asked.

A nod.

'Do you know how they died?'

Another nod.

'Is it happening to you?'

Seconds passed.

'Frank?'

Another smaller, tentative nod.

Sam felt his stomach drop. His heart skipped a beat and broke as he watched the young boy nod. How could this be happening to kids?

Sam sighed and reached forwards, gently rubbing the young boy's shoulder.

'Now you listen to me-I will make sure nothing happens to you, I promise' Sam muttered.

Another, slight disbelieving nod.

'Can you tell me what's happening to you?' Sam asked, looking back at Dean. His brother looked pale and drawn, but he smiled reassuringly at Sam, and Sam suddenly felt he had the strength to go on.

'What is making you so scared?'

It didn't look like Frank was going to speak, but a few seconds later, he did.

'They come in the night, when I'm asleep. They creep to my door and start to knock, but only gently, like a cat trying to get in. We don't have a cat-teddy died last year...' Frank began to speak.

'Who comes, Frank?' Dean whispered from near the door.

Frank's head shot up and fixed Dean with a scared look. 'The Hands! Lots of hands-I see their shadows from the curtain-they press on my window like they want to get in, they keep banging and banging and I just want it to stop!' A tear fell down Franks face, but it looked like was just getting started on his explanation.

'Then the children start to speak, after the hands stop banging they start to laugh-I cover my ears with my pillow and my hands but I keep hearing them! They won't leave me alone and they say the same things every night!' Frank's face was almost beastlike in his fear, his young eyes bulging and his hair standing on end, Sam moved further across the bed to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

'It's ok Frank, nothing can get you here...what do they say?' he felt bad for asking, he really did, but they needed to know.

'They say...' Frank let out a scared gasp as he looked around. 'They say I'm next!' another tear wormed his way down his cheeks and he began to cry in fear.

Sam sat back, unable to register what had been said. He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't. What could prey on children in such as sick way?

'You're not next Frank, I promise.' He said firmly. He turned to his brother for the next step.

Dean cleared his throat and walked to Frank's bed. 'Hey Frank-listen, me and my partner here are gonna do everything we can to stop this, ok? Now is this all that you saw in your nightmares?'

Sam frowned. The last question seemed an odd thing for Dean to ask.

'Dean I-'

'-come on think now, have you seen anything else?' Dean pressed, ignoring Sam's attempts to ask him what he was doing.

Frank held Dean's gaze for a few seconds, before slowly nodding, a new type of fear in his eyes.

'What is it Frank?' Dean whispered, the oldest Winchester kneeling right down to be at the kid's level.

'The hands called his name once-they called him...the Sandman' Frank whispered back, a spark of complete fear erupting in his eyes.

'What does he look like?' Sam asked, casting his brother a look as he did.

'He's big and black, like he's wearing a cloak, I can't see his face though...he laughs at me as he walks into my room' Frank closed his eyes against the memory, and the little boy began to shake a little.

'I think we're done here' Dean muttered, and he stood up, but not before ruffling Frank's hair and giving him a patented Dean Winchester smile.

'Don't worry Kiddo, we'll get the sandman, I promise- he's not gonna hurt you any more.'

'You promise?' Frank asked, looking up from his bed with wide eyes.

Dean took a heartbeat to answer. 'I promise' and with that he walked out of the door.

'We have everything we need, thank you' he smiled at Frank's mother, before walking down the stairs and walking out of the front door.

With an apologetic look for the poor woman in front of him, Sam bounded after him, before grabbing his shoulder and wheeling him around.

'What was that about then?'

'What was what about?'

'Back then, in Frank's room, where you pressed him for an answer?'

'Chill dude, I got the answer, didn't I?'

'Yeah but how did you know?'

'Call I a hunch, ok?'

'...A hunch?'

'Drop it Sam.'

Dean sighed and walked ahead of his brother, before pulling out his cell phone.

'Who are you calling?' Sam asked. Dean frowned and gave his brother a look.

'The fairy princess-Dad, Sammy, I'm calling Dad. I think he should know, ok?' he snapped, before pushing the number in and walking away again, leaving Sam in the shade of a large tree.

He sighed and pushed his hands into his pockets. Something had Dean spooked, and how did he know that there was more to the story than Frank was letting on?

He didn't understand it, but he hoped that Dean would be of more help when he had calmed down.

The kid's story of the sandman and the hands had been unnerving and scary; he just hoped that they would be able to stop them before Frank's nightmares changed into reality...

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I liked writing it!**

**I know I promised regular updates, but real life is being really mean, so I can't promise them this time, but I will make a huge effort to update at SENSIBLE intervals, I think 3 or so weeks between posts isn't enough, so I apologise for that.**

**Please review this chapter; I would love to know what you thought of it!**

**Xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello!**

**I am still alive, I've been clearing up some RL bits and pieces, and now I –finally- have lots of time to update! ^^ so more chapters of my stories will be coming soon, I promise!**

**I really hope you enjoy this latest chapter, it's quite a long one, and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as a loved writing it!**

**Enjoy...**

'Dude what the hell did we just eat?' Sam asked, shaking his head as he unlocked the motel room for him and his brother; his stomach was making a very peculiar noise and he was pretty sure that he was going to become very firm friends with the toilet in the bathroom very soon.

'Just normal food Sam- why do you have to be such a prissy when it comes to food?' Dean snapped, his brother heading to his bed, where he sat heavily, staring out of the window opposite.

Sam narrowed his eyes at him, unsure of how to tread-Dean had been acting strange for a couple of days now; maybe the case really was getting to him?

'Are you ok dude?' he asked, taking a seat at the table facing Dean.

'Of course I'm fine; jeez it's you with your stupid food preferences and fetishes!' Dean actually averted his eyes from the window, instead staring at the floor like a petulant child.

'Hey I don't have food fetishes!' Sam mumbled, shaking his head and trying not to grin; it was such a Dean thing to say.

'Whatever man...' Dean grumbled.

The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes. They had never sat in an awkward silence-they could sit in the car with their dad for hours and not say a word, and none of them would think of saying anything- but you could cut the tension of this silence with a knife.

After a while, Dean sighed loudly and ran a hand heavily down his face, wiping his blurry eyes with his finger tips.

'I'm sorry Sammy, I didn't mean to snap-I'm just so tired!' he offered his little brother a small smile, and was very relieved when one was returned.

'You don't seem to sleep much lately' Sam agreed, crossing his legs on his chair.

'No...' Dean suddenly seemed cagey, glancing over at Sam before shrugging. 'I'll try and grab a couple of hours now, it might make a difference?' he muttered.

'Sure, we need more stuff, like food and supplies, I'll go to the store for a while, might try and speak to some other parents if I can' Sam nodded, standing up and walking over to the door to grab his coat.

'Thanks man- and I am sorry I snapped at you, you don't deserve it' Dean gave a genuine smile of apology this time.

'Don't be silly Dean, I'll be back in a few' Sam grinned, shutting the door behind him.

Dean nodded at the closed door, before sighing and turning to stare at his bed; the reason he wasn't sleeping was that he was too scared to.

He didn't know why, but every time he closed his eyes a feeling of gut-wrenching horror and panic would engulf him, and he had to wake himself up-but he hadn't had any nightmares, so he guessed that that was a good sign...

He shook his head and climbed under his blanket. It was just sleep, nothing could hurt him there. He just needed a couple of hours, to recharge his batteries to find the fugly.

He put his head on the pillow and just closed his eyes. He felt himself float away quite easily, no horrible feelings or anything, just pure relaxation...

* * *

><p>He awoke with a start, his eyes staring around the now dark room in surprise. It was almost like the feeling that in your dreams you were about to fall, and then you wake yourself up- a hypnic jerk, Sam had called it once-.<p>

Dean sat up and stared around the room, the dark night pressing against the window, the curtain still open from when they had left it.

'Huh' he muttered to himself, smoothing down his mussed hair with his hand.

He looked around. Where was everyone?

He guessed that they had gone to a bar or something and just left him sleeping, so he swung his legs out of the bed and stood up.

Suddenly he heard low laughter, the deep sound reverberating through the room. Dean frowned and looked around. 'Dad? Is that you?' he asked, hopeful.

No answer.

Dean fought down the increasingly uneasy feeling gathering in the pit of his stomach as he took a couple of steps into the middle of the room.

The laughter continued, as if the noise was following him. Dean walked to the window and peered out at the gloom of the dark night.

No one was out there, so who was laughing?

He was just about to go outside when the laughter suddenly died down. Dean made a confused face and threw his hands up in the air, before shrugging and walking back to his bed, where he sat on the edge, feeling very uneasy.

The silence in the room was deafening now, and it left Dean feeling very worried.

After a while, Dean started to hear another sound-very softly and slowly, he realised could hear the sound of...children...

They were singing. He couldn't hear their words, but it definitely carried a tune, like a mantra or a chant.

It was very high pitched, childish giggles peppering the 'song' every now and again, and sounded like it was getting closer.

'What the?' he muttered, standing up once again, and once again unable to see where the noise was coming from.

He walked over to the window, the tirade of nasty feelings culminating into one big emotion of dread. He couldn't explain it, but he knew something bad was going to happen.

Suddenly, what seemed like thousands of hands pressed up against the window, slapping on the glass, these bodiless hands pressed against the window with such force the glad started to groan.

Dean recoiled from the window, throwing himself near the beds, watching in complete horror as the thousands of tiny hands continued to bang and push at the window, the cherub-like singing malevolently changing into a crescendo of raucous, evil, other-worldly screams and shrieking laughter.

He blinked once, twice-on his second blink, just for a few seconds, he could have sworn he saw eyes-thousands of red, twinkling, shining eyes in the dark night, illuminating the tiny hands that they could have been connected to.

'Leave me alone!' Dean yelled, immediately recognising these horrors as the things the boy had been talking about.

He had to get out; he had to warn Sam and John that they were in danger too...

He ran to the door just as the window imploded. The glass shards shattering and falling just as if an explosion had just occurred outside the motel room.

The hands disappeared, the laughter and screaming fading to nothingness.

Dean wrenched open the door and ran out into the pouring rain, thunder and lighting crashing and shining all around him. He lost his orientation for a second, had to bend over to catch his breath, to stop himself from keeling over.

He stood, now drenched in the freezing rain, and looked into the road that he had ran into.

The lightning flashed for a few seconds, giving Dean precious light-he saw a figure just ahead of him, a tall figure, it looked like they had his back to him.

'Hey! It's not safe out here, get inside!' Dean yelled, nearly tripping over his own feet as he raced to ensure the safety of the stranger in the road.

He touched the stranger's shoulder, but immediately recoiled. It was pouring with rain, but this man was bone dry, despite him being out in the open in this downpour.

The man still had his back to Dean, but he began to laugh, a low, actual humorous laugh that chilled Dean more than anything.

He suddenly frowned. He recognised that laugh. Recognised the way the shoulders shook, how the hair bounced on his head...

'S-Sammy? He stuttered, the cold now affecting him.

Sam stopped laughing and slowly turned to face Dean, a smile wide on his face.

Dean's heart nearly stopped. Something was wrong with Sam's face. His eyes were red and swollen, his cheeks sunken and caked with blood. Fresh blood was seeping from gash like wounds across his face.

Dean reached out a shaking hand to gently touch his face, but Sam turned his head and stepped back.

'Sam, what happened?' Dean asked, trying to stop himself from falling over.

Sam didn't answer. Instead, he threw his head back and just laughed, his dead eyes shining as he walked backwards.

Dean began to follow, fear clenching his heart, as well as a desperate desire to see if Sam was ok, but something told him that that wasn't his Sammy, he would of known about it if something like that had happened to him...

Just as he took his first step however, he stopped dead still. Something in his head just told him to stop.

Almost as if a tape had been put in, the low laughter-the same laughter he had heard in the motel room- started up again, but closer this time.

With wide, terrified eyes, Dean slowly turned, not sure of what he was going to find.

As soon as he did, he wished to god he had never gone to sleep.

He knew it was the Sandman, something about him just screamed evil.

Black smoke, darker than the night, enveloped the figure in a cloud-like shroud, white, skeletal hands poked out like twigs from under the thick smoke. The eyes were like floating balls of hell, the deep red seemed to squirm with life, as if the black souls of demons themselves were swimming in them.

He could see nothing else, but as he backed away, horror now clenching at every fibre of his body, total fear evaporating every single thought in his mind-he really didn't want to see any more.

He ran back to the motel room, determined to find something to defend his family, but as he reached the door it slammed shut, wouldn't open, no matter how much Dean pulled and swore; it was locked tight.

In the midst of Dean's shouting, the night had become deadly silent. The thunderstorm had stopped, the rain subsiding.

As Dean realised the new silence, he stopped and turned, yelling and jumping when he saw the sandman just inches from his own face, the red eyes were all he could see.

This was it, the sandman was going to get him, and there was nothing he could do-what would happen to Sam? Would the sandman get him too?

'No!' he yelled, trying to force himself backwards, but the sandman seemed to press into him more, his skeletal hands trying to grip his shoulders.

'I won't let you get Sammy! I won't do it!'

'Dean...'

'You can take me, but leave him alone!'

'Dean'

'No!'

'DEAN! Dean wake up man!'

'Huh?' Dean woke up groggily to find Sam and their father staring down at him, their faces full of concern and slight fear.

'Dude, what the hell where you dreaming about?'

**Will Dean tell John and Sam everything?**

**Find out in the next chapter!**

**Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed **

**I have the next chapter written out in bullet points, so I'll get it typed up and posted very soon!**

**Please review, I would love to know what you thought of this!**

**Thank you for reading!**

**X**


	6. Chapter 6

Dean shot up in his bed, almost colliding with Sam's head if it wasn't for the younger Winchester throwing his head back in anticipation.

John watched as he eldest ran a shaking hand heavily down his sweating face, before Dean seemed to settle back down again. He put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it gently, nodding at his son.

'It's ok Dean, nothing can hurt you now...' he said, still feeling alarmed and very worried after watching his son near-on convulse in front of him.

'Yeah...' Dean almost snorted at the comment, before he sighed heavily, putting his head in his hands.

'What were you dreaming about?' Sam repeated, standing up to give his brother some air.

Dean struggled for an answer, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. 'I-I don't remember' he lied, before he caught the steely look in his father's eye and his nerve failed him.

He sighed again and sat up a little straighter, knowing he needed to explain what was happening to him.

'I-for the past couple days I've been having these...dreams. They start out like normal dreams-hot blondes and a beer dispenser, all wet with beer and just feeding me with th-'

'Dean-the dream?' Sam interjected, smirking at his typical brother's dream.

'What?' oh yeah-'Dean cleared his throat. 'Then they started to get...scarier. Like the hot chicks turned into total toads, y'know? They started saying weird things, and I kept seeing things out of the corner of my eyes...'

'What kind of things?' John asked, frowning at his son.

'Like shadows. Smoke, I don't know-dark stuff' Dean nodded, trying to make them understand.

Sam nodded, his eyes full of concern for his older brother. John seemed interested but a little freaked out, and that made Dean feel even more uneasy.

'What about this dream Dean, what was going on there?' Sam asked.

Dean looked up at him, remembering his nightmare version of Sammy, before willing it out of his mind. He wouldn't tell them about that; he didn't want Sammy to worry.

'This one was...different. It started at the motel, and then there were hands pressing against the wall until it smashed, and the laughter...' for a split second, Sam saw a haunted look in his brother's eyes that scared him more than anything he had ever encountered before. This had really scared him.

'Then there was another laugh, a deeper one-it was the sandman Dad, I know it was!' he sounded almost childlike as he turned to his father, his eyes wide with intense fear.

John's own eyes widened, and his response was to rub Dean's shoulder once more, his knuckles now white as he tightly clung on to his eldest.

'It's ok Dean-they can't hurt you no more, I'm here...' he muttered, not caring that Sammy was standing right beside him.

Dean nodded slightly dumbly, before he seemed to shake himself and looked up at Sam.

'Where did you go?' he asked, his voice slightly higher than normal.

A flash of complete horror and devastation flashed against Sam's eyes. 'I'm sorry Dean, I got sidetracked! I was only meant to be gone an hour tops, but it didn't work out like that-'

'Whoa Sammy, I'm not blaming you! God no, I was just asking where you were-I was worried, that's all!' Dean said, sitting up more and lightly punching Sam's forearm. 'It's not your fault.' He muttered.

'I know...' Sam muttered, smiling at his brother.

The short space of silence was suddenly punctured by the shrill sound of John's mobile going off.

'Dad you really need to change your ringtone!' Dean winced, screwing his eyes up jokily.

'You show me how-and I will!' John grinned brightly, before he punched the button with his finger and stood up.

'Hello?' he said, before he looked taken aback, as if surprised by his response.

'Please calm down Mrs Smith-'

Dean gave Sam a look-'Isn't that Frank's mom? The one we talked to earlier?'

Sam nodded, moving closer to his father, frowning at the phone.

John had gone very pale, his eyes darting to Sam's for a split second before he seemed to pull himself together.

'Mrs Smith-call the police, I will be there as soon as I can, I am so sorry...' he said, before he nodded to some answers and finally turned the phone off and turned to his sons.

'Frank's dead' he said. He didn't sugar-coat it, no shifting around, no excuses, no long winded explanation. The kid was dead, and there was nothing they could have done about it.

They had failed him.

Sam looked utterly crushed, his eyes staring around the room, anywhere but in the faces of his brother and his father. He turned away and faced the window, unable to comprehend the information.

Dean narrowed his eyes, staring into the middle of the room, his mouth open with surprise.

He wiped his face to guard off any tears, his eyes already stinging with them.

John was stood in the middle, not knowing what to do.

He sighed and massaged his temples, as if organising his thoughts, before he wiped a hand down his own face.

'Boys-I'm sorry, I should've-I should've been able to stop this' he muttered before emotion threatened to overcome his speaking.

Sam looked at his father for the first time, eyes wide with surprise and disbelief.

'No dad, this isn't your fault! We should have been ready, yeah-but we had no real idea what we were up against until now' he reasoned, looking to Dean for support.

Dean didn't seem to be listening; he was still staring listlessly into space.

'Dean!' Sam jolted him out of his reverie.

'We failed Frank' he muttered, shaking his head slowly and biting his lower lip.

Sam shook his head and walked over to sit on his bed.

'Listen, this wasn't your fault, we didn't know this was going to happen, this wasn't planned-we couldn't have done anything about this!' he said firmly, shaking Dean's leg roughly.

Dean slowly looked up at him, fixing him with a steely yet mild look. 'Keep telling that to yourself Sam, maybe you'll make it come true' he muttered.

Sam narrowed his eyes, lowering his eyebrows and blinking hard a few times, before he stood up, visibly stung by his remark.

'Listen, having a go at each other isn't going to help, is it?' John said, glaring at his eldest and shaking his head slightly.

Dean steadfastly ignored him, before sighing and shaking his head. 'So what do we do now?' he asked abruptly.

'Well, I think I've found a book that can tell us about this sandman-I only found it an hour ago...too late to save Frank...' he trailed off a bit, before coughing slightly and carrying on.

'From the bits I've read so far, the Sandman can only be killed inside his dream world, and obviously only by the person whose dream it has invaded. A blade made of pure, blue glass is the only thing that can kill it-I can get that easily' he said, nodding at his sons.

'That's great, but your baits dead' Dean spat, flinging off his blankets and standing up, looking at Sam, who looked the other way, frowning.

'I know, that's the problem...' John muttered.

There was silence in the room for near-on a minute, before Dean chuckled darkly and turned around to face his family.

'Well, I've had the dreams, the nightmares, haven't I? Now the Sandman had entered my dream- I'm the bait now' he stated, smirking slightly.

'No way!' gasped Sam, aghast at his brother's words. 'Now way! I won't let you do that-you could die like the rest of the kids!' he said, fear and complete horror mixing in the pit of his stomach that made him feel utterly sick.

'It's the only thing we've got' Dean reasoned, his face softening, his eyes now seeing how hurt his brother was.

'I won't let you do it, I wont!' Sam stammered, taking a step back. He didn't want his brother dying on him; he just wouldn't let it happen.

'No offence princess but this is my choice, isn't it?' Dean said, before putting a protective hand on Sam's arm. 'I'm gonna be the one doing the killing, ok? This sandman bastard is going to die, and I'm going to wake up-capeche? He grinned, rubbing Sam's arm, the youngest Winchester still looking unsure.

John stepped forwards, frowning at his son as if he still didn't believe him. 'Listen-'he said, giving his son a small smile. 'I wouldn't be giving you permission to do this if I didn't think you could pull it off, ok?'

'Yes sir' Dean nodded.

'Ok, we'll do it tomorrow night, if you're up to it?' he asked, looking at not only at Dean for confirmation, but Sam also.

'Sure I'm ready-this fugly is going down!'

'That's my boy...'

'How could you two be so fine with this?' Sam yelled, staring at Dean and John like they had gone mad.

'Dean is risking his life here, and no one would be able to help him 'cos it's all happening in his head! No, I can't just sit back and watch that happen!' he shouted, and before anyone could say anything, he bolted to the door and walked into the night.

'Sammy! Sam wait!' Dean yelled, before turning to his father.

'We are doing the right thing, right?' he asked, now totally unsure of himself.

'This is the only way Dean, you have to be asleep for it to work' John muttered, shaking his head with a worried look on his face. He never wanted one of his sons to be bait; this was why he worked so hard to get rid of the fugly's himself.

He was sure Dean was more than capable, he had seen him in action-he was ready for this.

He just hoped they could convince Sam as well.

**What's going to happen next? Can they convince Sam that this is the right thing?**

**Find out in the next chapter!**

**Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! ^^**

**Please review, I would love to know what you thought of it!**

**Xx **


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello!**

**So two days aint bad, is it? This is a much shorter updating time than previous chapters!**

**I really hope you enjoy this chapter; it's a little brother-time! ^^**

**Enjoy...**

Sam looked out across the desolate, gloomy park with hazy eyes, the impending darkness making it harder to make out the trees and the playground at the very end of the large expanse of green.

The night was quiet and sombre, matching the young man's feelings exactly, and small drops of rain were cascading down on him, the chill, biting wind catching his jacket and lifting it up.

He bent his shoulders into his body and shuddered, before rubbing his hands together and sitting up straighter. He knew Dean was right, that their father was right. There was no other way to get rid of the Sandman than someone being bait and doing it themselves.

But why did it have to be Dean?

Why did it _always_ have to be Dean?

He knew that his brother liked to think of himself as a hero, the guy who saves the day and makes everything ok-sure he was a hero in that respect, especially in Sam's eyes.

But he was still his big brother. He didn't like him taking risks, being reckless with his safety-Dean always made sure he was safe, why he couldn't do the same without seeming childish, even cowardly, Sam didn't know.

He flicked his hair to the side when it became matted to his forehead due to the downpour, and jumped slightly to see someone in the shadows just behind him.

'Heya Sammy...thought I'd find you here-you always liked wide open spaces.' Dean nodded mildly, a small smile on his face Sam took as nervousness.

'Yeah well it's better than cramped spaces I guess, like in your mind' Sam retorted, resuming his staring straight ahead through the rain.

Dean hid a snort. He knew Sam could hide little jibes and tease him with the littlest of words. 'Touché Sammy' he muttered, before he stood in front of Sam's bench he was sitting on, and, seeing nowhere to sit down, proceeded to wiggle his hips to make Sam budge up.

Sam did so, silently. As Dean sat, he sighed deeply before turning to his big brother, his face confused.

'Why do you do it?' he asked. Dean looked curiously at him, as if wondering whether this was a trick question.

'Why...do I do what?' he asked, although, secretly, he already knew what Sam was going to say.

'Why do you always insist on doing the dangerous stuff yourself?'

'Would you rather dad did it?' Dean replied evenly.

'Yes-he's a more experienced hunter than you. Why do you have to be the...' Sam trailed off, realising his own feelings had got the better of him.

'Be the what, Sammy?' Dean said, and Sam could detect irritation in his voice.

'Nothing, I didn't mean anything...' he didn't want this argument now.

'No come on Sammy, you have so much trouble spitting it out-You don't like me acting the hero, is that right?' Dean said, and even in the gloom Sam could see his cheeks reddening with what? Embarrassment or anger?

Whatever the emotion was, however, it didn't last long.

'Sammy...' Dean sighed, moving up closer to his brother and looking him straight in the eye.

'I'm not trying to be the hero here, ok? I need to do this because it's the only way-Dad can't do this because he hasn't had the nightmares, and neither have you-ok?' he spoke quietly but smoothly, making sure Sam understood.

'I would never do anything that would put me or anyone else in danger, especially you' he added, smiling coyly at Sam.

'We don't need any more danger...' Sam let out a small smile.

Dean raised his eyebrows and nodded. 'I agree, which is why this is gonna be over before you know it-It'll all be over soon Sammy, then we're gone.'

'I know-but these people have to stay here. Mrs Smith-she has to stay here, knowing that something killed her son, and we couldn't help-'

'But we can help! We can help by getting rid of this bastard forever' Dean nudged his knee, willing him to understand.

'We can't save everyone-and we can't kill every creature and monster-but we can give it a good try!' he grinned, smiling as Sam smiled back, nodding.

'That's the Sammy I know...' he muttered.

Sam then nodded darkly, before sighing once more, looking down at the ground.

'You know-if you think about it Dean-we're fighting a losing battle here' Sam turned to his brother.

'We kill one creature, another ten pop up-we're just straightening the deckchairs on the Titanic, aren't we?' he had a melancholy twinge to his voice, his eyes dropping to the floor once more.

Dean looked at him with concern. 'No, Sammy, no we're not-'he nudged Sam's shoulder and pulled his other one to get Sam to face him.

'You know what we're really doing?' he whispered, the rain hitting his eyes and making him wince.

'What?' Sam asked.

'This time, even though the Titanic still sinks...we're making sure there are enough life boats to go around' Dean smiled at his little brother.

'Yeah?' he asked, nodding once at Sam to get his answer.

'Yeah' Sam seemed more confident sounding this time, smiling at his brother.

'Good man...' Dean grinned and he stood up, looking at the cloudy sky, frowning.

Sam stood up as well, and as soon as he did, Dean enveloped him in a hug, his brother rubbing his back in wide circles.

'You just wait Sammy-'Dean mumbled into his shoulder, before he blew some of Sam's wet hair away from his nose.

'This time tomorrow we'll be long gone, and the sandman wont be able to hurt anyone again'

Sam nodded into Dean's shoulder. He had been desperately worried about Dean, but deep down he knew he could do it, could pull this off without a hitch.

'Promise me you'll be safe, and won't do anything stupid?' he said finally, pulling back from the embrace and looking his brother in the face.

'I promise Sammy, I promise' Dean nodded, smiling at him.

'Good' Sam was satisfied now.

In the silence that followed, Dean shuddered dramatically against the wind and rain, and pulled his jacket around him.

'C'mon, dad'll be wondering where we've got to-we've got a big night tomorrow!' he snorted a little as he said it.

In one second-in one _fraction_ of a second- Sam saw fear in his brother's eyes. The green misted over and darkened, a small amount of tense, absolute fear emulated behind those confident eyes, but it was over in the blink of an eye, and Dean was smiling again, clapping his hands and making his way back to the motel.

Sam tried to quell the rising tide of fear that was still steadily building in his chest as he duly followed his brother- he knew Dean could do it, as well as any hunter could, it was just hard to accept that he could help at all.

Dean seemed so confident, as did their father-

-He just hoped they were right.

**Are they right? Find out in the next chapter, when Dean slips into dream-world for his showdown with the Sandman!**

**The next chapter will be much longer than this, don't worry!**

**Thank you so much for reading, and please review!**

**Xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello!**

**Ok, so I'm still a bit iffy with the updating, but I hope this extra long chapter makes up for it!**

**As this is Dean's nightmare, this chapter is going to be gory and horror-filled, just to let you know! ^^**

**I really hope you like the ending ^^**

**Enjoy...**

_The next night..._

The sky was unusually clear and settled, twinkling stars peeping out from under thin wafts of blueish-white clouds.

Dean breathed in the night, exhaling deeply as he leaned out of the motel window. He knew what he had to do; he just had to get it done, and then get out.

He predicted that this would all be easier said than done.

'You ready?' he heard his father speak out into the silence, and he turned with a sigh, brown eyes meeting darker irises; his father looked at him gravely, before attempting a smile.

'You're sure you want to do this-we could find another way?' he asked.

Dean shook his head. 'That would take time, and we don't have time, do we?' he replied in a low voice.

'No, I guess we don't' John agreed, running one hand down the stubble on his face, the scratching sound resonating in the darkened room.

Sam, who was sitting on his own bed with his knees pulled up to his chest, shook his head slightly. It was a tiny gesture, almost invisible it was so small. Dean, however, noticed it like a punch in the face.

'Are you ok with this Sammy?' he asked, stepping over to his brother and looking him straight in the eye, man to man.

Sam looked up at his brother with wide eyes, but said nothing. After a while, he slowly nodded his head.

It was Dean's choice; he couldn't do anything to change his mind. It wasn't fair of him, Sam, to be the person to get in the way of what he wanted to do. If he didn't do this-many more people would die. If he did do this- there was the slightest possibility that Dean could be killed.

One life against potentially hundreds of others. One impossible choice.

No choice.

'I don't agree with what your gonna do Dean-but I have to accept it-and without sounding so cliché I have to kick my own ass just for saying it...but I respect your choice, even though I wanna change it, I can't-just make sure your safe' he said, before shaking his head and smiling at his brother's expression.

Dean was wearing the face of someone who had just witnessed something catastrophic but awe inspiring, like a talking moose or a particularly fetching motivational speaker.

'What?' Sam asked, nudging Dean's shoulder with his fist.

'Nothing, I'm just waiting for you to stand up so I can be the one to kick you in the ass!' Dean chuckled, dodging Sam's second flailing fist.

'Shut up!' Sam grinned, before shaking his head and sitting back down.

John watched his boys, and once again a feeling of immense pride welled up in his chest, so much so he had to swallow it back down for fear it would erupt and come out of his mouth.

'Right-you ok to do this now Dean?'

No one but Sam would ever know what those few words did to Dean-his big brother's face seemed to melt and implode for a second, his eyes widening, his body shuddering, and his mouth downturned into a fierce grimace. Seconds later though, it was gone.

'Yep, ok dad-let's do this thing!' he muttered, before he flicked Sam's kneecap with his fingers and gave his brother a wink.

Sam sighed and exhaled deeply, watching his brother make his way to his own bed.

The plan was for Dean to fall asleep naturally, without medication or help, and then for him to fight the Sandman from there.

John stepped forwards and presented his oldest son with his weapon.

The glass dagger seemed to almost glow in the dark room; the green-glass almost twinkled as much as the stars outside. It was short, and therefore easy to carry around.

'This is it?' Dean asked, before he gently took the blade in his own hands. Before he could bring it up to look at it, John took it out of his grasp and brandished it at his oldest son.

'Listen-you can only use this once, ok? As soon as you jab it at someone, it breaks up into thousands of pieces. It's these pieces which will kill the creature, but as soon as you do it once and miss or smash it into something else, it's over-understand?' John asked.

Dean breathed in and nodded, but it seemed like John wasn't finished.

'I'm gonna need some of your blood Dean' he muttered.

'What? Why?'

'Because when your dreaming, you go into the dream, but other things don't-y'know, when you dream I doubt the real life playboy bunnies are really doing their _thang_-its your memories of them, right?' he smiled. He knew his son too well...

'I'm afraid so...' Dean feigned disappointment at the thought of the playboy bunnies not being real.

'Right. So, I need some of your DNA to tie the blade to the physical you as well as the dream-you' John continued, before reaching into his pocket and bringing out his pocket-knife.

Sam stood up as Dean held out his bare forearm, and winced as the knife bit into his flesh and drew rivets of blood.

'There we go...that's all I need...' John muttered, gently twisting Dean's arm with his hand to allow the blood to flow freely and drip onto the knife.

Dean rubbed his arm reproachfully as he watched his father gently rub the blood into the glass with the very tips of his fingers.

After a while he again gave the blade to his son, and this time he let go.

'You ready?'

'I guess so' Dean shrugged, and he walked to his bed and sunk down into it.

Sam walked across next to his father, arms crossed, staring at the bed.

'Sammy-relax dude, I'll be fine, you won't even notice I'm gone, ok?' Dean smiled.

'Yeah, ok' Sam nearly choked out those two words, but he forced himself to sound normal, just for Dean.

'Ok...' Dean sank into his bed and felt his head hit the pillow. This was it.

A thought occurred to him, and it chilled him to the bone.

'Hey Sammy-does this remind you of a certain film?' he asked, moving his head sideways to face his brother.

'What? No I don't think-oh crap' Sam squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to force something out.

'That's what I thought Nancy Thompson!' Dean chuckled dryly, before closing his eyes.

It wasn't until Dean had said the name that John connected what they were talking about-the film was A Nightmare on Elm Street.

'Come on now Dean-get to sleep, and this will all be over' he admonished gently, before he sat down in the chair that he had dragged over.

'Ok dad-wish me luck guys?' Dean asked. He looked like a four year old who needed reassurance before he did anything.

'You don't need luck' Sam smiled, rubbing Dean's shoulder gently.

'Thanks Sammy'.

Suddenly, Dean desperately didn't want to do this. What if he did die? Who would look after Sammy, protect him from everything?

He had no choice. He had to do this for the other kids. For Frank.

He gave himself a minute to breathe, before closing his eyes for the last time.

'Sleep tight Dean' he distantly heard Sam mutter as he floated away. This seemed unnaturally fast for him to fall asleep. It was almost like something was pulling him to sleep, not drifting.

His eyes suddenly shot open.

He was here.

* * *

><p>He sat up on the bed, immediately looking around for Sam or something to show that their plan hadn't worked. No Sam, no nothing. He was actually here.<p>

He blew air out his cheeks and swallowed thickly. His arm reached down to grasp the glass blade, and he tucked it into the belt of his jeans for safe keeping. It was fragile, but it was still a knife.

He gingerly got up off of his bed and studied his surroundings, his stomach plummeting as he registered what he was seeing.

The room was black. Not as in it had been painted black-ash black. Fire black. Complete and utter gutted- room black. The walls were the colour of coal, the wallpaper singed and crinkling off the wall in sheaths.

The carpet was a mass of ash, dust and broken, blackened furniture.

Looking into the mirror which was mounted on the wall opposite him, Dean could see the heat-induced cracks splitting it.

'What the...?' he muttered to himself, carefully picking his way through the crumbling debris, plumes of white ash jumping over his feet as the displaced air carried it around.

He reached the door and held out his hand to turn the handle, but it was red hot, as if someone had put boiling water over it. His hand shot back and Dean swore, glaring at the handle.

He looked around. 'Come on then you bastard! This is what you wanted right?' he yelled, listening for the terrible laughter he had heard the time before.

Nothing.

Wait; there was something...a faint thumping noise. It was coming in beats of two, _flump flump, flump flump..._over and over again.

Dean frowned, wheeling around. 'Where are you?' he yelled.

The noise got louder, and as it did, Dean realised with a thrill of horror what it was.

Footsteps.

They were coming from outside. _Flump flump, flump flump. _Whatever was walking around out there was making one helluva noise.

Dean ran back over to the door and grabbed the handle- thanking the stars that it was now cold- and wrenched it open.

Dean's eyes widened as he saw what was outside.

It was snowing. The crisp white snow took on an orange gleam thanks to the security light fixed on the door of the motel room; the thick snowflakes came down silently and gently. It looked exactly like the winter wonderlands that Dean used to see in picture books when he was a kid.

He stepped out into this new world and took a few steps, glancing around for the Sandman, making sure he wasn't hiding in the shadows, but he could see nothing.

He looked down.

Where were the footsteps of the thing that had been walking outside?

He rubbed the back of his head and then reached down to the blade, thumbing the handle to make sure that it was still there.

As he took a few more steps forwards, the laughter started once more.

Dean stopped stock still as the manic cackling enveloped his senses. It sounded like they were in an auditorium as the laughter echoed and bounced around.

He quickly pulled the green glass blade out from its hiding place and brandished it in front of him.

'Come on then!' he yelled into the laughter, his eyes darting left and right and he tried to pinpoint the sound.

'You really think your going to kill me with that thing?' a pleasant, warm voice spoke out in the laughter, and soon the chuckling began to subside, like someone was gradually turning the volume button down on a stereo.

'Well why don't you come where I can see you and we can find out!' Dean challenged, still unable to see anything out of the ordinary.

'Oh I would, believe me I would-but I'm having too much trouble eating your brother's fingers at the moment!' the voice was cut off by an abrupt crunching noise, and the sounds of chewing.

Dean felt his stomach drop from his body. 'What did you just say?' he asked, eyes wide, his body shaking as much as his head.

'You heard me-would you like to see?' the voice asked.

Before Dean could retort he felt something touch his shoulder. He wheeled around, and then almost fell down from the shock.

The shadowy, Smokey creature from his other dream was holding another hand in its own, and had used it to tap Dean on the shoulder.

'Your brother is quite tasty, you know' it said, before putting the fingers of the other hand into his mouth and biting down. A nauseating crunch filled Dean's ears, and he had to turn his head away to be sick as the Sandman chewed on Sam's fingers.

'You son of a bitch' Dean gasped, before closing his eyes and shaking his head.

_This isn't the real Sammy...Sammy's safe with dad-this isn't Sam, _Dean said in his head over and over again.

'Dean, you know that you fell asleep quicker than usual right? Do you want to know why that is?' the sandman bent down low, bringing Sam's disembodied hand closer to Dean.

Dean trembled as the hooded creature brought its face closer to his ear.

'...Because you never fell asleep' it muttered, before moving back, chuckling.

'Yes I did-otherwise you wouldn't be here...you can only be here if I'm dreaming!' Dean yelled, pulling himself up and backing away.

The snow froze him to the bone, but as he looked around the sandman, everything was beginning to thaw.

'You would think that, wouldn't you-but what would be the point of just staying in one dimension?' the sandman asked, before taking another bite out of Sam's hand, this time all Dean could hear was the ripping of flesh as the creature bit and tore into the soft skin of Sam's palm.

'This-isn't real!' he growled, shaking his head, begging himself to wake up 'You're not real'

The laughter began again, but this time Dean was sure it was coming from the sandman. It walked towards him, taking long strides. Seconds later, and Dean was facing it.

'Oh but I am! I can walk between dreams and reality-a regular Freddy Krueger, if you will'. It seemed to cock its head as Dean frowned. 'I can see into your head Dean, I can read your thoughts'

Dean shook his head weakly. 'Why are you doing this?' he muttered.

'Why, what else is there to do?' the creature asked, before laughing again.

'I killed those children out of pure boredom-there's nothing quite like doing something on a whim' it said. Dean backed away, shaking his head, but the sandman followed, its footsteps echoing.

It brought up Sam's hand again and took another bite, and this time it made sure Dean could see the white bone peeking out from the small expanse of red, bloody flesh as it tore Sam's little finger off.

'This is the real world Dean-but with a few added changes of my own, like the snow, and the fire, for example. But this is all real, I promise you'

'Yeah? Well take this-'Dean spat and he jabbed the blade at the sandman. With one flick of its hand it took the knife from Dean's grip and flung it on the floor. It landed on the last of the snowy grass, and Dean was very relieved that it stayed intact.

Suddenly, the sandman threw the remnants of Sam's hand aside and instead threw itself on top of Dean, pushing him back and landing on top of him as Dean fell onto the grass.

'No!' Dean gasped, but the sandman yanked his head back, exposing his neck.

'I've...tasted...one brother...' it yelled out as it fought with Dean. 'I'm...going to...taste...the other!'

It clamped its jaws on Dean's jugular vein, its teeth puncturing the skin and going into the flesh.

Dean screamed in agony as the sandman brought its jaws together, before wrenching upwards and tearing away the flesh.

Dean gurgled in his own blood, still trying to desperately get out from underneath the sandman.

'Let me go!' he yelled, but the creature bit again and again, the blood spattering and spraying, dyeing the rest of the snow an acrid scarlet...

This was it. He was going to die. Sam was right, why didn't he listen to him? He should've listened...

* * *

><p>'DEAN! DEAN WAKE UP! Sam yelled, shaking his brother roughly.<p>

Dean jarred awake with a huge gasp, immediately pressing his hands to his neck. He brought them back and was relieved to see no blood.

'What the hell happened Dean?' Sam asked, standing up and regarding his brother with concern.

'I-I couldn't do it Sammy...' Dean choked out, rubbing his eyes to quell his tears.

'It's ok' John said, and Dean saw he was sitting on the edge of his bed. 'We can try again'

'I just want to rest' Dean said, rubbing the beads of sweat off his forehead.

It was over. The nightmare was over, nothing could happen now.

'I understand Dean' Sam muttered, sitting down next to him as well.

Dean smiled up at him, then let his eyes cast downwards.

He gasped and jumped back in his seat, staring down at the bed nearest his brother.

'No No...No...' was the only word he could get out.

Sam had both arms on the bed. Only one hand was protruding from the sleeves.

Blood was coming out of the other one.

He only had one hand.

**Thank you for reading!**

**Please review...xx **


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello!**

**Once again, this chapter is very heavy on the horror/gore, but many of you said you liked it, so I hope you'll like this ^^. This is the final part of Dean's battle with the sandman, and there will be one or two more chapters after this to finish it off!**

**Enjoy...**

Dean stared at the bed, his mouth working madly but no sound coming out.

'Dean? You ok?' Sam asked, moving his hand a little, blood spurting out onto fresh blanket space.

'Y-Your- Your hand...' Dean stammered, unable to take his eyes off the missing limb, his brother's sleeve hanging limply where his wrist should have been.

'What? Are you sure you're ok? Did the sandman do something to you?' Sam asked again.

'N-No...' Dean shook his head slowly, finally raising his eyes to meet Sam's.

Sammy looked...fine. Like nothing was wrong.

'Dad?' Dean suddenly remembered, sitting up straighter and craning his head to find their father.

'He's not here Dean, he went out for a minute-I'm sure he'll be back soon' Sam said, putting his only hand comfortingly on Dean's knee.

Dean immediately balked, shoving his hand off and scrambling out of the bed.

'You're not Sammy' he muttered, backing into the wall.

Sam closed his eyes and jerked his head to the side, the way he does when he looks confused.

'Yes I am-you know I am' he replied, before giving Dean a smile.

'No...this is still a dream...' Dean whispered, watching 'Sam' warily as he walked slowly to the other side of the room.

'No, it's not. You're in the real world' Sam stood up, smiling at Dean.

'No. It isn't!' Dean growled.

Sam jabbed his neck to the side, clicking one of his vertebrates with a dull click. He closed his eyes and breathed out, smiling as he reopened the

'You should have died Dean, nicely, like all the others-this would have been so much easier...' he said, his voice low and dangerous.

'What have you done to Sammy?' Dean spat.

'He's in here, with me-he wants to talk to you...' the sandman inside Sam suddenly seemed to shift, and suddenly a very scared looking Sam was staring at Dean.

'Dean? Please Dean-kill it! It hurts Dean! It burns, it-'

Before Dean could find out what else was happening to his little brother, Sam suddenly stopped talking. His face seemed to just stop, his eyes dead and staring. Staring right at Dean.

Then his face began to melt. It was like Sam was made of wax, the way his skin just started to slip off.

'No! Sammy!' Dean cried, but he found he couldn't move. He was rooted to the spot.

'This isn't real. Sam isn't real...' he forced his eyes shut and replayed his mantra again and again, almost shouting it.

Then the screaming started.

It sounded just like Sammy; his voice pitched and stopped before he began again, a scream of absolute agony.

'This isn't Sammy...Sammy's safe...he's safe...oh god...he's safe...' Dean repeated, until his ran out of breath and had to listen for a split second.

He opened his eyes for that split second, and he then wished to god he didn't. All he could see was bone. White bone, glistening under what used to be 'Sam's' head.

'Oh god...' he retched, turning to the side and vomiting, sinking to his knees.

He was going to get this bastard if it was the last thing he did.

He moved his legs, and with a huge, remarkable feeling of sudden freedom, bolted from the room and slammed the door, sliding down it, his body shaking.

The screaming had stopped, but now the whimpering had started.

'Why didn't you help...you could have helped...' he heard the sandman speaking in Sam's voice, over and over, like a second chant to Dean's.

'Shut up! You're not real!' Dean yelled, backing away from the door and looking around.

He scanned the now thawed ground, his eyes desperately searching for the glass blade.

'Come on...come on...' he muttered, but finding nothing.

He had to find it, otherwise he was gonna die and leave the real Sam alone.

'Come on!' he yelled, wringing his hands as he fell on his knees, his eyes looking for the blade in a now mad panic.

'It's over Dean...you've lost' a deep voice rang out in the silence.

'D-dad?' Dean gasped, turning to find himself face to face with John, or the sandman's version of him.

'Come on Dean-give up!' he yelled, his eyes turning a murderous red, his teeth lengthening and rotting, his gums a hideous black. He grabbed Dean around the neck in one hand and threw him across the grass, Dean landing in the mud, winded.

'You can't beat me Dean! I will win!' he laughed, a loud, deep, malicious laugh, looking at Dean in anger.

But Dean had seen something the sandman hadn't. The blade.

He scrambled across the grass and quickly picked it up, brandishing it at the sandman.

'Oh yeah? Come and get it then you ugly son of a bitch!' he spat.

'Is that a challenge?' the sandman smiled, his face now turning grotesque and ugly.

Dean didn't answer. Instead he started to slowly circle the sandman, his eyes trained on its face, as well as any vantage points where it would be easy to kill it.

It was beginning to snow once more. A light covering had already besieged the ground, the smaller snowflakes falling gently onto Dean's face.

'Are you playing the hero again Dean? You know it isn't going to work, not with me...' the sandman said quietly, his father's eyes gazing at Dean.

'Maybe, maybe not-but I'll never know till I try!' Dean spat, and he launched himself at the sandman.

It wasn't ready, and Dean easily barrelled it, but didn't get enough space to stab it, so instead he pushed it to the floor and put all his weight on its chest.

The sandman roared in anger and brought one of its hands up. The hand was now ended with huge, talon-like claws, and it swiped at Dean's face. He could feel the blood trailing down his face, could taste it's saltiness as it dripped into his mouth.

The sandman laughed, a merciless, draining sound, but Dean held strong.

It swiped again, this time as his chest, and this time Dean did react. He doubled up and threw himself away, putting both hands to his chest to quell the blood that was sputtering from his abdomen.

'That's what I call the intestine-slasher!' the sandman yelled, standing up and watching with apparent relish as the snow turned scarlet around Dean.

Dean began to stutter, blood spraying from his lips. 'B-B-Bastard...' he whispered, before falling face first into the snow, where he lay still, eyes open and staring.

The silence was deafening. The sandman shrugged and chuckled.

'Another one for the pot...' it muttered, walking slowly over to Dean's innate body and staring down at it.

'And he was such a fighter too...' it muttered before throwing his head back and laughing.

He bent low over Dean and turned him over to inspect the damage that he had done to his face.

He wasn't expecting what happened next.

'Got you ya son of a bitch!' Dean yelled, and in the blink of an eye he was up, and as the sandman watched, he grabbed the glass blade from his hand and slammed it into its heart with a yell of anger.

The sandman's eyes widened and bulged, and it tried to move away, but Dean held strong, twisting the blade in a complete circle and digging it in further.

It screamed in pain, its clawed hands grappling for the blade, but its strength was leaving fast, and seconds later in fell to the floor, where Dean left it, twitching and convulsing.

'That was for my brother you...bastard!' he muttered, before falling to his knees himself, the blood still pumping thick and fast from his body. The cut had been deep, but evidently not as deep as the sandman had thought. He was all intact, from what he could see-he just had a lot of blood to lose, it would seem.

He struggled to his feet and limped over to the dying sandman, his breath becoming ragged and light with the blood loss.

The sandman, still in his father's essence, looked up at him.

Dean watched as its eyes rolled back into its head, showing only the whites. It took one last, drawn out breath, before it slumped back into the snow, falling still for the last time.

'G-good Riddance...' Dean muttered. He would have thought of something more original to say, but he didn't have the strength.

He fell to his knees again and sat there, just trying to keep breathing.

'I-I need...to wake up...' he whispered, again feeling the spray of blood against his lips. He felt his eyes go heavy and he keeled over into the snow, looking up at the stars and noticing how beautiful they were.

'I need...to...to...' he stopped speaking once his voice failed him, and only concentrated on breathing.

'Dean...'

Dean looked around groggily for the voice. He knew it anywhere.

'Dean...'

'Sam...'

'Dean!'

'I'm coming back Sammy...I'm coming...'

'DEAN!'

* * *

><p>'DEAN!' Sam yelled, shaking Dean's shoulder roughly, looking desperately up at their father.<p>

John shook his head, tears in his eyes. They had just witnessed Dean convulsing on the bed, before he began breathing erratically, finally going still and limp a few seconds ago, his breathing getting lighter.

'Don't do this to me man...you promised me you'd be ok!' Sam was fighting back tears as he pushed Dean's shoulder.

'DEAN!'

Dean let out a huge gasp and sat up straight, his face flooding with colour as he started breathing heavily.

Sam sat back with a gasp, wiping his eyes putting a shaking hand on Dean's knee.

Dean jumped and looked down. He had both hands. Thank God.

'Sammy-' he muttered, reaching forwards and pulling Sam down for a hug, before putting both hands on either side of his face and inspecting his features for signs of burning, or melting.

'Dean, what happened? We saw you shaking and-'

'I'll tell you later, I'm so happy I'm back!' Dean said, pulling Sam in for another, tighter hug.

'I'm happy you're back too Dean...' Sam replied thickly, rubbing his back.

Once Dean had finished, he looked over at their father.

'Hey dad, I did it' he said, smiling at him.

'Yes you did, and I couldn't be more proud' John smiled, but his smile didn't quite meet his eyes. He had been so scared at seeing his oldest son like he was; it was going to be some time before he got over the shock.

'So-'he said, sitting on the bed and looking Dean straight in the eyes. It was a look Dean knew he couldn't ignore or back away from.

'You wanna tell me what happened there?'

**What are Sam and John going to think when Dean tells them about what happened? Find out in the next chapter!**

**The next chapter will also be the last, so I really hope you have enjoyed the ride so far! ^^**

**Thank you for reading as always, and please review, I would love to know what you though of this chapter!**

**X**


	10. Chapter 10

Dean shifted uncomfortably in the bed, avoiding eye contact with his father as he moved his legs and visibly squirmed under the piercing glare of John.

'Come on Dean, tell us what happened' John pressed.

'I-I've already said I got it, why do we need to bring it all up again?' Dean practically begged, desperately not wanting to relieve what had happened, especially to the two people that it had happened to. Even in his dream-world, there were things that Dean knew he had to keep to himself.

Sam frowned but seemed to understand, nodding his head after a while.

'Ok, you don't have to tell us now-but you bet your ass your gonna tell me about it later!' he said, prodding Dean's knee and giving him a small smile.

Dean felt his heart sink. Now Sammy and dad where expecting him to tell them all about it at a later date.

He might as well tell them now.

'Listen guys...' he said, sitting up straighter and looking at them both. 'It was a nightmare-literally. I saw things that I only ever see in my worst dreams; you Sammy, you where being hurt in unimaginable ways and I couldn't stop it. Dad-you just turned into something really, really scary!' he said, and even though he was smiling, inside he felt like crying.

'I am only gonna say it once, ok-next time I offer to do something like this again...tie me up and chuck me in a cupboard or something, ok?' he grinned.

Sam rolled his eyes and smiled; John shook his head and chuckled. 'We'll hold you to that kid' he smiled.

Dean got out of the bed and ruffled his shirt, trying to stop the now cold sweat from sticking to his body. His limbs ached and he felt like he had been asleep for eternity. This was an experience he never wanted to experience again in a hurry.

Sam sidled up to him as he sat on the bed again, stretching.

'Are you sure your ok, dude? You looked scared to death when you woke up-you frightened the life out of me' Sam admitted, a truly troubled, slightly haunted look on his young face.

Dean looked at him for a second before smiling. He put a hand on his shoulder and nodded.

'I will be Sammy-it was a lot to handle in there, I just need some time to...process what happened in my head' he said.

'I understand, if you need to talk, I'm here' Sam said.

'I know you are Sasquatch, but I think I have to do this alone-I don't want you thinking about what I'm going to be thinking about in the next few days!' he tried to pass it off as a joke, but I didn't work.

'I hate that we made you do this...' Sam shook his head, seemingly angry with himself. He had known something bad was going to happened, and here was the proof-Dean barely made it back into the real world, and now he was talking about these memories and thoughts that would be too much for him to handle.

'Hey! You didn't make me do anything, ok? This was my choice! Geez Sammy, you can't blame yourself for everything!' Dean blew air out of his cheeks, before standing up and looking at his little brother, green eyes boring into Sam's brown ones.

'Don't you start blaming yourself for this, ok dude? I did this, you didn't-it was my choice, and I beat the bastard that was killing those kids, and that's that.' He said, pushing Sam's shoulder with his finger.

'I know...' Sam said, before standing up and throwing his arms around Dean. 'I'm just glad your ok, that's all' he said, squeezing him tight before letting go.

'Yeah me too-thanks for looking out for me little bro' Dean smiled, and Sam noticed that the smile was genuine; it reached his eyes for the first time since he had woken up, and the pleased Sam more than anything.

'Any time Dean, you know that' he replied.

John interrupted them with a slight cough. 'You guys wanna get out of here or what?' he smiled, chuckling. He had been silently packing all their bags for them, and Dean could see they where stacked neatly by the door.

A flash of a memory, of smelling acrid smoke and looking at the blackened, burnt out husk of the motel room crossed Dean's mind, but it was over as soon as he shook his head.

'You ok?' Sam asked.

'Yeah, I'm fine-come on, let's get out of here!' Dean said, walking over to the bags and shouldering his and Sam's.

'I'll go turn the car round then' John smiled, and he patted Dean's shoulder and looked deep in his eyes, until he seemed to be satisfied with whatever he saw, and he opened the door to get to the Impala.

'What happened whilst I was out? You two seem pretty nervous about something' Dean frowned at his brother.

'You where thrashing in your bed, we thought you were having a fit-we thought you were going to die Dean, we really did' Sam explained, emotion rising in his voice.

'Oh' Dean said, looking back towards the door. 'I see. Well, I'm ok now, that's the main thing, isn't it?'

'Sure it is!' Sam smiled, and he picked up the last remaining bags and walked to the door.

'You ok to lock up?' he asked as he passed Dean.

'It would be my pleasure' Dean smiled.

He watched Sam go, before finally looking back into the motel room.

He sighed deeply and shuddered. He was glad to be out of this room, but he couldn't help thinking about the kids who had died before he finally ganked the Sandman. They had so much to live for, but something out of their worst nightmares had cruelly stopped them from doing so in their sleep. It shouldn't have happened, but at least Dean could take solace in the fact that he had stopped it.

He clasped the door handle and pulled, casting a shadow on the carpet.

'Good riddance...' Dean muttered as he closed it fully, shutting the door with a dull snap. He locked it with the key and putting it in the small 'key-letterbox' on the front of the wall before turning abruptly, suddenly not even able to look at the place.

'Hey!' he heard Sam yell from in front of him. He looked up, smiling.

'I call shotgun this time!' Sam yelled, and he ran from the side of the road, making headway to the Impala, which was parked, waiting, on the road leading to the main road.

'Not if I get there first you don't!' he yelled back, and he laughed as he started to run as well, determined to beat his brother to the car.

In a couple of weeks this would all be forgotten, and the only memories they would have would be the flyers that John was given about the local area that he had stuffed into the glove-box, and the motel room receipt in Sam's wallet.

They would have more work, more dangerous gigs and situations like this-

-but as long as they held strong, and worked together, nothing could bring this family down.

**The End.**

**Well, that's another story over, I really hope you enjoyed this latest ride I've taken you all on, I really enjoyed writing it! ^^**

**Please review one last time to let me know what you thought of this chapter, and the story as a whole!**

**Thank you for reading!**

**Happyday girl**

**x**


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